Finding Home
by Knightcrawler
Summary: Taking place shortly after the film, the Tank Gang, led by Gill, are now in the strange and unaccustomed environment of the ocean, and trying to adjust to the wonders and dangers of their new world. Making their way towards Nemo and his Dad, they must negotiate the perils of the ocean, both seen and unseen, as they make their way towards their new home...
1. Chapter 1

Finding Home

 _Prologue – Nemo's Tale_

Although they had heard Nemo tell about his adventures with the Tank Gang numerous times before, Nemo's friends from school never tired of listening to him recount all about his time within the tank in Doctor Sherman's office. They all listened in silent, awed attention, even Tad the butterflyfish, who was obnoxious (Nemo didn't know what obnoxious meant, but Tad had claimed that he was obnoxious, so Nemo had decided to believe him). Sheldon, the seahorse who was H2O intolerant, had taken some strange herb for his allergies, so that these allergies would not affect him, thereby forcing him to interrupt Nemo as young clownfish recited his tale. Then there was Pearl, a young octopus girl who claimed that one of her tentacles was shorter than the others. Nemo couldn't tell the difference just by glancing over at her, and didn't want to stare at her tentacles too intently to try to notice the difference, as that seemed to be rather rude. The final member of their little gang was Squirt, an exchange student from the East Australian Current, or EAC, who had met Nemo's Dad only six days earlier, not long after Nemo himself had been taken from his home in the ocean, spirited away by a diver, and placed inside a strange, clear box in what he had later learned was called a dentist's office. Even though Nemo had initially been terrified by all that had happened, he had quickly made friends with the strange but amiable Tank Gang that inhabited the dentist's fish tank. Nemo loved talking about his time with the Tank Gang, about all that he had learned while trapped inside the tank, and about the friends that he had made during his time in captivity.

Earlier, Nemo had told the little gang of ocean children, for the umpteenth time, about what had happened when he had initially been placed, scared and confused, within the strange environment of the tank. It had not taken long for the other inhabitants to become curious about him, to ask him about where he had come from, to welcome him into their tiny, watery world. After getting himself caught in some strange, human-made device, he had first met the leader of the Tank Gang, the gruff, scarred moorish idol fish Gill. On his right side, Gill's fin had been practically destroyed, the result of a previous failed attempt at escaping from the tank. Nemo himself had a small and underdeveloped right fin, his 'lucky fin', and had learned from Gill that that was certainly no reason to stop him from being able to be independent and clever, a determined leader in his own right. Gill had explained to Nemo how to free himself from his predicament, and later, the same Gill had officially overseen a ceremony whereby Nemo had been officially welcomed into their gang, and given the Tank Name of Sharkbait. But Nemo's time in the tank had not been without danger, due to the niece of Doctor Sherman, Darla, a fish-killer, who had already been responsible for the death of a previous member of the Tank Gang, an orange fish named Chuckles. At Nemo's official welcoming ceremony, Gill had made it clear, with the enthusiastic consent from the other members of his gang, that they would not let that happen to Nemo.

Gill had been better than his word. Now Nemo was telling his enraptured audience about possibly Gill's bravest and most impressive act of heroism. Despite Gill's planning and scheming and his teaching Nemo how to swim down to avoid being caught in a net, Nemo had been taken from the tank, placed in a plastic baggie (well, that was what Gill called the strange, transparent bags that humans seemed keen to use to transport fish from one place to another), which had been shaken by Darla, in a manner that Nemo knew could easily kill him. Gill, with the help of the other members of the Tank Gang, had launched himself from the top of Mount Wannahockaloogie, the plastic volcano inside the tank, and onto Darla's hair, forcing the girl to reach up to her hair screaming, and dropping Nemo in the process. The baggie had broken, leaving Nemo vulnerable, exposed, outside of the safety of the protective water, and gasping for breath. Gill had been gasping for breath also, for he was equally as exposed and vulnerable. Nemo had wanted to thank him then, but had not known what to say, how to express his gratitude, had simply said Gill's name, hoping that it would be enough.

Perhaps it was.

Somehow, Gill had managed to leap onto Doctor Sherman's dentist's tools, launching Nemo into what he called a 'sink'. Gill had earlier explained that all drains led to the ocean, so Nemo had known that the scarred fish would be sending him back to the safety of the ocean, and eventually, back home to his Dad. "Sharkbait, tell ya Dad I said, 'Hi'! Go get 'em!" was the last thing that Gill had said to him, as he had sent Nemo on the long journey that would eventually lead to Nemo's freedom.

Nemo finished his tale, and watched the awed expression of his friends. "Wow," said Tad, "so what happened to Gill after that?"

Nemo merely smiled, "I suspect that he was fine, that Doctor Sherman just put him back in the tank again," he said.

"You mean that you don't know what happened to him?" asked Pearl, who had just inked in fear, despite having heard the tale numerous times before.

"Gill's tough," said Nemo, but with just tiny a hint of uncertainty in his voice, "it would take more than that to stop him!"

"Maybe," agreed Sheldon uncertainly, "but that would have been a lot, even for the toughest of fishes. I mean, he had a bad fin to begin with…" his voice trailed off as he looked at Nemo's underdeveloped right fin.

"That just makes him all the tougher!" Nemo insisted, but the uncertainty was beginning to rise within his tone, "I should know, having a bad fin is not enough to stop a fish like Gill, or me for that matter."

The others just looked at him in silence. Finally, Pearl said, "Yeah, of course," although she was sounding slightly uncertain now, "if Nemo's Dad can go all the way to Sydney to find Nemo, Gill could certainly survive something like that."

"Yeah," said Tad, but he also sounded uncertain.

"Yeah," said Sheldon also sounding uncertain.

"Yeah, of course," said Nemo, although his doubts were becoming greater by the minute. Gill was fine, had managed to survive that, surely? Why, even now, the scarred moorish idol was probably leading his little gang all the way to Nemo's home, his most recent plan to escape from the tank having gone off flawlessly at last. Yeah, Gill was fine and as tough as ever; it would take more than something like that to kill off a fish as tough as Gill…

…wouldn't it?


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 1 - Nemo's Idol_

 **Author's Notes - Thanks for the review** _ **Childatheart28**_ **, I hope you like this story and continue to find it interested. Enjoy!**

The images swirled in front of Gill's eyes, unclear and unfocused, but penetrating in the guilt that shot through him like a knife. There was Chuckles, belly up in the plastic baggie, unnoticed by the fish-killer Darla. The image changed, transformed, and it was Nemo, lying still and dead in the bag, while the other members of the Tank Gang stared accusingly at Gill.

They had a right to do so. He had failed Chuckles, failed Nemo, and now it looked like he would fail everyone with his latest plan to get them out of here. _You killed us_ …did Gill hear that voice or was it just the voice of his conscience? It didn't matter.

 _I didn't mean to_ …Gill replied, backing away, as though he could somehow escape the guilt within him, _I tried to save them, tried to save them all, I really did…_

 _Tried…tried and failed, tried and failed, always failed. They are dead, because of you…will all soon be dead because of you…_

 _No…that won't happen…_

 _Will happen…has happened…_

 _I wanted to set him free! Send him back to the ocean…_ Gill tried to defend himself from the oppressive guilt, _I didn't mean for this to happen…_

 _Liar!_ came the reply, _perhaps you tell yourself that, to allow yourself to sleep at night. But no, you were so desperate to return to the ocean, so desperate that you put him in danger, because, yet again, you failed to think through your plans. And trusting, innocent, he went along with your plans, got himself caught in that accursed filter, all because of you…_

 _No, he's fine, I know he is…_

 _Liar! came the response once more._

There was the sound of grinding, of some weird human made contraption, and a small, young fish being trapped within the gears. Nemo stared at Gill, betrayal in his eyes. "Gill…Gill…"

"Gill, Gill wake up," Peach was shouting at him, looking at him with worry in her small, black eyes.

Gill shook himself, trying to forget the nightmare. He gave Peach a small, embarrassed smile.

"You were talking in your sleep," Peach began, looking at him cautiously.

Gill shook himself again, and tried to sound dismissive, "Just a dream, Peach, nothing to worry about."

Peach stared at him intently. "A dream Gill, or a nightmare?" she asked.

Gill sighed. He might be able to fool the others, but Peach could see through him as clearly as if he was made of the same clear substance as the tank back in Doctor Sherman's office. "A nightmare," he said, "but it doesn't matter, it's over now."

"You were talking in your sleep," Peach repeated.

Gill sighed again. He really did not want to talk about this, but it was clear that Peach was worried about him, and he would do anything to alleviate her concerns, "What was I talking about?" he asked cautiously.

"Chuckles," she said, "and Nemo." Peach continued to stare at Gill. Small and pink, the starfish was possibly the only one who truly understood Gill, who could see through his moods and whose wise counsel and urging towards caution could prevent Gill from being too rash and hasty with his decisions.

Although Gill cared deeply for all of the gang, it was Peach that he cared for most of all, his oldest and dearest friend. Gill knew that, no matter what, he would never be able to lie to her, and would not even attempt to do so, now or ever. "Well," he began, "I did fail Chuckles, it's not really surprising that that has been playing on my mind."

"And Nemo?" Peach asked him quietly, "You didn't fail Sharkbait. You saved him, sent him back to the ocean."

"Yeah…" said Gill, but looked down, suddenly unable to meet Peach's eyes.

"All drains _do_ lead to the ocean, don't they, Gill?" Peach persisted.

"Yeah…" Gill said again, "or at least a lake or a river, some body of water where a little fish would be safe, would be able to make his way back to the ocean, back to his Dad, but…"

"But what?" Peach spoke quietly now, as though afraid of what Gill would say.

Gill sighed once more, and looked up into Peach's worried eyes. "Humans…like to change the world to make it a better fit for them. They have created things that they use to clean up the messes that they create."

Peach gave him a small, uncertain smile, "Yes, we all know that," she said, "like the Aquascum."

"Yes, exactly like the Aquascum." Although that piece of human built technology had been responsible for preventing the success of one of Gill's plans to free Nemo, all of the fish from the tank could not help but be impressed by the technological innovation that had been so successful in cleaning their previous home. "There are…things like that in the ocean," Gill said, "humans have made certain machines that keep the waters clean from their filth. A little fish that got caught in one of those machines…" his voice trailed off, and he looked away from Peach.

"Could have been killed by one of those machines?" Peach asked quietly.

"Yes," said Gill, still not meeting her gaze, "humans have created a world that is convenient for their needs. Sometimes other creatures just get caught in the middle of their inventions. They do it without malice, for the most part, but also largely without considering the consequences for the other creatures involved."

Peach put one of her arms around Gill. "Why didn't you tell us?" she asked.

Gill shook himself slightly, "What good would it have done?" he asked. He pointed with his good fin towards where the other members of what had up until so recently been the Tank Gang were waking up and staring around at their new world, the ocean that they barely understood, "they are not exactly the sanest group."

Peach looked over at them. Deb, the humbug damselfish, unable to see her reflection, was worrying that her sister Flo seemed to have vanished. Gurgle, the royal gramma, was spending half of his time panicking about germs and getting Jacques the cleaner shrimp to decontaminate all of the nearby rocks, and the other half of his time arguing with Bloat, the porcupine fish, thereby causing Bloat to inflate in anger. Finally, Bubbles, the yellow tang, was chasing any bubble that might happen to appear. Peach turned her attention back to Gill once more, "You do have a point," she admitted, "you were right about fish not being meant to be in a box, that it does something to us…"

Gill gave a small sigh, "You and I are about the sanest of our little gang," he said, "and even that is only relative. If I'd told them that there was a real possibility that I could have sent Sharkbait to his doom in the gears of the human made cleaners, what good would it have done? They would have just become even more crazy. No, it's best that they don't know. What is the point of them worrying about something that might not have even happened?"

"Or for you worrying about something that might not even have happened," Peach said quietly, "I'm sure Sharkbait would have survived whatever the humans had put in place. I saw the way that you trained him, that boy's capable of doing great things, and I would expect nothing else, with you as his mentor."

"Perhaps…" said Gill uncertainly.

"And even if something horrible did happen to him, which I'm sure it hasn't" said Peach quickly, "the fact still remains that you risked your life to save him, that there was really nothing else that you could have done at that moment, we didn't exactly have time to come up with a better plan. I won't forget what you did, and I doubt very much that the others will either."

"Yeah…" said Gill, but didn't look at her.

There was a moment of silence between them, and then Peach said, "That's where we're going, isn't it, to find Sharkbait and his Dad."

"Yeah," said Gill again, "I mean, it makes sense. The ocean is a big place, bigger than I think the others really understand. We have to find a place where we can settle and make a life for ourselves. Sharkbait and his Dad know that we are friends, so it's only logical to start by asking them if they know of any place where we might be able to make a home for ourselves nearby to their home."

"That does make sense," Peach agreed, "but it's more than that. You want to know that Sharkbait is alive and safe and well."

"Yes," said Gill, looking up and meeting Peach's worried gaze, "To know one way or another. It has to be better than this not knowing, this wondering, this worrying. I have to know if he is alive or not, if I saved him, or doomed him. Just to know, one way or the other."

Peach gave Gill a small smile, "I understand," she said.


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 2 – The Start of the Long Journey_

The Tank Gang – they had decided to keep the name, even though it was no longer strictly speaking appropriate – were following Gill as he led the way to the ocean. Gill knew that he had to reach the East Australian Current, the EAC, and follow it away from Sydney, into the further reaches of the ocean. Memories, half remembered images of what seemed like a lifetime ago, were filtering back to Gill. The ocean could be a dangerous place, a place where a family could be decimated by a predator in a moment, where a happy group of friends could lose each other to the snarling jaws of some huge and bloodthirsty creature that acted without thought or understanding of the damage that it was causing. There was absolutely no point in blaming the predators for being the cause of so much heartache; they acted without reason or regret. As Nigel the pelican had so aptly put it, fish had to swim, birds had to eat, although that was true of all predators, not just avian ones.

Nigel, now there was that strangest of creatures, a predator who was a friend to fish. It had been with Nigel's help that the Tank Gang had been able to escape from the baggies just outside of Sydney. He had apparently gone back to the dentist's office to check that the Tank Gang were all okay, after having released Nemo's father and companion back into the waters of Sydney harbour, only to find the tank completely empty1. Flying around, Nigel had soon managed to spot the little group of colourful creatures in their plastic baggies – as Nigel had so aptly put it, that was not something that a bird saw every day. After a brief bit of small talk, where Gill had assured him that yes, they really were all fine, thank you so very much for asking, now would you be so very kind as to help us all out of these baggies, if it's really not too much trouble, Nigel had indeed helped them, one at a time, escape from the confines of the baggies.

Although Gill did not admit it to Nigel, that had terrified him. To have a pelican's beak a few inches away from him was enough to terrify even the bravest of fish, and Gill had to continually remind himself that Nigel was a friend to the Tank Gang; that he would not harm fish that he knew personally. But fish were ancient creatures, had lived on Earth for millions of years, and had, in that time, developed a deep rooted fear of the birds that hunted them. And Gill knew that Nigel ate fish, so his instincts had been telling him, in no uncertain terms, that this was a seriously dangerous position to be in, even if the more sensible, logical part of Gill's brain insisted that Nigel would never harm him or any of the members of his little gang. Besides, Nigel had once told Gill that he tried to avoid eating any of the Tank Gang's species, since there was something fundamentally distasteful about the thought of eating any of the Tank Gang's relatives, and besides those species were not particularly tasty anyway. At first Gill had considered asking him how he knew this, but had quickly decided that, in actual fact, he would prefer not to know.

That had been three days ago now, and the Tank Gang were just starting to adjust to their new environment. This was hard enough for Gill, who had been held within the captivity of the tank for…how long? He had lost track of time since he had been scooped up from the ocean, and taken prisoner by a well-meaning, but ultimately naïve, diver who had no idea of the trouble that he was causing the young idol. That had been several years ago now, he knew that much. But at least the ocean was in some sense familiar to Gill – the sights, the smells, the feeling of the vastness of the open ocean…these Gill remembered from his youth, and were therefore to a certain extent familiar, even nostalgic. The same could not be said for the rest of the Tank Gang. They had never set fin in the ocean before; it had always seemed like a strange, exotic and slightly unnerving other world to them, even though they had never been that far from the Pacific Ocean all of the time that they had been in Doctor Sherman's tank. They didn't seem to know what the ocean was, or all of the dangers that it contained. They seemed to think that it was basically a tank – albeit a very _big_ tank – and that at some point they would come to its edge and look out on the alien world outside. They did not seem to be able to grasp the fact that the ocean covered far more than half of the world's surface, could not seem to understand the concept of anything being that vast, after living their whole lives in such a confined space. It scared Gill to think about how naïve and innocent his companions were of their new environment.

Gill sighed quietly to himself. Nemo's Dad had been right to be scared of the ocean, since it could certainly be a dangerous environment for a small, shy clownfish. It also potentially presented all sorts of dangers for a group of naïve creatures that had spent their whole lives as pets, and were completely unaware of all of the dangers that could be lying in wait for them, out there, in the hidden depths of the ocean. Only two days ago, Gill had watched Bloat, Bubbles and Deb approach a small group of fish, without fear or wariness of the potential dangers involved. Fortunately, the fish that they had been approaching had been nothing more dangerous than a school of butterflyfish, who had become understandably curious about a small group of strange creatures that appeared to be travelling together, and just wanted to satiate their curiosity. The Tank Gang had been quite happy to explain about what they were doing, that they had escaped from the confines of a tank inside a dentist's surgery in Sydney, and were now making their way into the deeper ocean to meet up with friends. The butterflyfish had found this interesting, but had left soon afterwards, and not long after they had done so, Gill had explained to the Tank Gang that they could not just go up and chat to every fish that they happened to see in the ocean, that not all of the creatures here were friends, and that there were creatures that had no thought or consciousness, who were motivated solely by hunger and the desire to satiate that hunger. Suitably chastised, the Tank Gang had agreed that they would not approach strange creatures again, not until Gill had informed them as to whether or not it was safe to do so. So far, they had been as good as their word, deferring to Gill whenever they saw any creature, asking him whether or not it was safe to approach and strike up a conversation with this creature. Gill knew what creatures were safe, from both early experience and instinctive fear, but the other members of the Tank Gang seemed to lack any feelings of trepidation, due to having spent all of their lives in captivity. It would take time for them to adjust to their new way of life.

And there were other aspects of their new life that they also seemed to be having trouble adjusting to. For the first couple of days, they had wondered when it would be feeding time, when a human would come along and provide them with the nutritious pellets of fish food that they had grown accustomed to whilst living inside of the tank. Gill had patiently explained that they would have to forage for food themselves, that certain plants were nutritious and good to eat, whereas others should be avoided. He then carefully explained that humans did not go out into the ocean to feed fish, although they did sometimes go out into the ocean to feed fish to _themselves_ , and so it was best to avoid any sign of human activity. The Tank Gang had found this strange. Doctor Sherman might not have known what were suitable presents to give to his niece for her birthday, but none of the Tank Gang could deny that he had otherwise been a good pet-owner for his fish, taking good care of them, ensuring that they were fed, and that the water of the tank was appropriate to ensure their continued health and well-being. Despite the trouble that Doctor Sherman had unintentionally caused, the rest of the Tank Gang had no fear of humans, regarding them as little more than a source of free amusement.

Humans, huh, now there was a strange species. They made such wonderful things, and then just dumped them in the ocean when they got fed up with them, moving on to something new. Yet, for a long time, humanity had intrigued Gill. Maybe it was their incredible genius, coupled with their equal level of stupidity. They had managed to fashion so much of the land to their own desires, showing incredible ingenuity and inventiveness, yet at the same time they could be so stupid, unable or unwilling to see the long-term damage that their inventions caused. How could there be a species like this, one that lived and thrived all over the planet? So Gill had watched, listened, learned. Part of this was, of course, to do with their opposable thumb, and what seemed to be their constant preoccupation with doing things with their hands. Well, a fish couldn't do anything about that. But it was more than that; humans had mastered the ability to use tools, and had used these tools to make life easier for themselves, enabling humanity to reach all the way around the world, and even into the depths of the ocean. And so Gill had learned. The volcano in the tank could be used to launch himself towards a drain and the dentist's tools could be used as leverage to send Nemo onto freedom…

That thought brought him back to the present. Gill had to know, one way or the other, if he had indeed sent Nemo on to freedom, or else to his doom. Better to know, either way, than to spend the rest of his life wondering and worrying.

He was not the only one who was worrying, either. Gurgle, the most neurotic member of the Tank Gang, was worrying about all that the ocean might contain. Clearly, Gill's warnings about the potential danger of strange fish and other creatures was having an effect upon the gramma, but Gurgle was panicking, displaying far more worry than that which Gill considered to be a reasonable level of caution. Gurgle was constantly moving back and forth, and every time he saw a shadow he was becoming terrified that it was a predator out to make him lunch. The rest of the Tank Gang were getting understandably irritated with his behaviour. Gill sighed quietly to himself once more. They were right, his worrying could be annoying, but, at the same time, Gurgle had _also_ been right, more often than Gill cared to admit, especially about the danger that the filter had posed to Nemo.

And it wasn't only that which could be seen which was worrying Gurgle, but also the dangers that were unseen, the microscopic germs that they were swimming in even now. Gurgle had been terrified ever since finding out that no human was going to come along and clean the ocean for them. The very thought of all of the pollution that was in the ocean was practically causing him to go into hysterics, leading to the others becoming more and more irritated towards him. Gill shook himself slightly. Part of this was just Gurgle being, well, Gurgle, but perhaps the gramma did have a point. The rest of the Tank Gang had spent all of their lives in a regulated environment, in tanks where humans had ensured that all of their requirements had been met. They had not had the opportunity to develop the necessary immunity to be able to combat everything that Gurgle was even now panicking about. Even Gill himself was not entirely immune, having spent so long inside of the tank, although at least he had developed some form of immunity during his time in the ocean as a young fish. Gill wondered how he could explain all of this to the Tank Gang, without this leading to Gurgle becoming even more panicky and skittish.

None of this seemed to bother Bloat, who appeared to be finding Gurgle's skittishness amusing. And now Bloat and Gurgle were arguing with each other. Gill sighed again. Well, Bloat could be quite disgusting at times, he had to admit, so it was not exactly surprising that Bloat and Gurgle got on each other's nerves so much. It was just a clash of personalities, nothing malicious about it, their arguments would soon be forgotten, as always, when something more important came along to occupy their minds. And here comes Deb, Gill thought to himself, deflating Bloat, coming between Bloat and Gurgle, trying to get them both to stop arguing.

"Now boys, we're all in the ocean together," she laughed, placing herself between Bloat and Gurgle. "We have to face the ocean together, there is no point in us arguing amongst ourselves now, is there?"

"You know, she has a point," said Bloat to Gurgle, "we should be sensible about this whole thing."

"Sensible?" Gurgle asked, "How can I be sensible? There are germs everywhere! We're swimming in all sorts of disgusting muck!"

"Just calm down," Deb said, "let's try and be sensible about all of this."

"Sensible?" Gurgle said again, suddenly turning his attention towards Deb, "You of all fish are telling me to be sensible? The fish who can't tell the difference between her reflection and her sister!"

There was a moment of absolute silence. Deb stared at Gurgle intently, her blue eyes clouding with unshed tears. Gurgle put his fins over his mouth, clearly aware that he had gone too far this time, had said something terrible in his neurotic panicking. Clearly trying to make amends, he began, "Look Deb, I'm sorry, I didn't mean…" but his voice trailed off as Deb suddenly swam away from the rest of the Tank Gang, while the others just watched her go in stunned silence.

"I didn't mean…" Gurgle began again, and turned imploringly towards Gill.

Gill sighed once more, "Never mind what you meant," he said, sounding rather harsher than he had intended, "I'll go after her. The rest of you, wait here." And without waiting for a reply, Gill swam after the young humbug, to see if he could undo whatever harm the gramma had unintentionally caused.

1Technically, the tank was full of water, as well as a plastic castle, skull, diver, treasure chest, and all kinds of other interesting things made out of plastic. However, in the current literary convention, 'empty' refers to having no sentient life within, in much the same way as it does in reference to an 'empty' room that is nevertheless full of air and possibly furniture.


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 3 – Secrets Ready to be Told_

It did not take Gill long to reach Deb. She had clearly been crying, quietly, alone, away from the rest of the Tank Gang. Gill waited silently for a moment, but Deb didn't seem to know that he was there.

"I'll talk to Gurgle, if you like," he began, after waiting what seemed like a very long time, "he went too far this time."

Deb sniffed, "This isn't about Gurgle," she said quietly.

"No?" asked Gill.

Deb was silent for a long moment, "No," she said quietly, "and anyway, it's not as if he's wrong."

"Deb…" Gill's voice trailed off. He was not used to the young humbug being so upset. She had always seemed to be one of the most cheerful and happy members of the Tank Gang. It occurred to Gill that he had never seen her like this before, and he didn't know what to do for the best. Perhaps he should just stop and wait, listening to whatever it was she had to say. Perhaps it would be enough.

"Gurgle's right," said Deb, after what seemed like far too long a period of silence. She gave a sad little laugh, "when has he ever really been wrong?"

Gill looked down, "You have a point," he said, "maybe that's why he and I argue with each other so much," he looked up at Deb, giving her a small smile.

Deb returned the smile, "At some level, I think I've always known that Flo…that it was just my reflection in the glass," she said quietly.

"I've never seen you like this before," said Gill, looking over at Deb worriedly.

"I've never talked to you about my sister Flo before, have I?" Deb asked.

"Well…" Gill began awkwardly, unsure of what he should say.

Deb gave him a reassuring little smile, "It's okay, I don't mean my reflection, I mean my real sister, Flo."

"Tell me now," said Gill quietly, unsure what else he should do.

Deb looked down, "We were sisters, twins, born in the pet store," she said. "Everyone commented that we looked so much alike that they couldn't tell us apart," she gave a little laugh, "oh the tricks we would play on them when we were both children!"

"What happened?" asked Gill quietly.

Deb looked over at him, and gave a little sigh, "One day, we learned that someone was going to buy us, that we were going to go to another tank together. We would miss our friends from the pet store, of course, but it was okay, as long as we would be together…" her voice trailed off, and she looked down once more.

Gill waited, patiently. It had never occurred to him that Deb's sister, Flo, had been real; he had just assumed that the young humbug had been sent mad, living in captivity, as had the other inhabitants of Doctor Sherman's tank. Now he realised that there could well have been other reasons that had sent Deb, and perhaps the others, into insanity. Losing someone that you loved could do that, surely, for he remembered how he had felt when Chuckle's had died. And if Flo had been Deb's sister and constant companion, then it was little wonder that she had not been able to accept that she had gone. "What happened to Flo?" he asked quietly, although part of him really did not want to know.

Deb gave him a sad little smile. "There was a young lad working in the pet store," she said quietly, "first week on the job, apparently. He had been given the task of moving Flo and me to our new home. But he was too inexperienced. He never meant to harm us, I'm sure. He was just too rough, not careful enough…" her voice trailed off once more.

"I'm sorry," said Gill. It wasn't enough, but then again, nothing would be. All the time that they had been confined within the tank, Deb had kept this secret to herself. Who knew what other secrets the rest of the Tank Gang kept even now? But out here, in the wide expanse of the ocean, it was as if it was just too…big, too vast to keep secrets, the open space seemed to encourage openness, in much the same way that the confined space of the tank had encouraged them to keep at least a little part of themselves private and secret.

"She died then, because the boy had not been careful enough in handling her," said Deb, looking straight ahead now, her voice strangely devoid of emotion. "I couldn't hate the boy for it, it wasn't as if he had meant to do it. But I guess I just couldn't accept that Flo had gone, either," she sighed, "so anyway, I was bought by Doctor Sherman, placed inside the tank in the dentist's office, and then I…I…" she looked down once more.

"I'm sorry," said Gill again.

"Then I saw my reflection in the glass," said Deb, smiling another sad little smile, "and it looked so much like Flo! I just wanted to believe that she was alive, that she was okay once more…I guess I just managed to convince myself that my reflection was my sister, that Flo really was alive, and with me, as we had always hoped we would be. But at the same time, I guess I also always knew that I was lying to myself, that my reflection," she gave a huge sigh, "was just my reflection, not my sister, however much I longed for it to be Flo."

Gill glanced over at Deb. There were tears in her eyes, but she seemed to be managing as well as could be expected, given the circumstances. She needs this, he realised, she's held this pain in, repressed it down, all the time that she was in Doctor Sherman's tank. All of that cheerful, happy humbug…well, that's also a part of Deb, but this is a part of her too, and just as important. And I hope that talking to me about this has helped her in some small way. I could try to offer words of comfort, but they would just be empty, meaningless. Perhaps it's enough just to stay here, in the calm open of the ocean, and hope that this moment of silence will help her to heal. The pain that she's feeling now will probably never go away completely, but at least this talking about it should help her to come to terms with what happened, all those years ago.

"You don't have to come with me, Bloat, I said I'd go and apologise to her, and I meant it," came Gurgle's irritated voice from behind them, interrupting Gill's thoughts.

"Just making sure that you do, that's all," Bloat replied.

Gill turned around just as Bloat pointed an accusing fin at Gurgle, "This here has something to say to Deb," he said.

"Okay, okay," muttered Gurgle to Bloat, and then turned his attention towards Deb and Gill, "Look, I'm really, really sorry that I upset you," he said, "I didn't mean to, and I'll try not to do it again."

Deb gave him a small smile, "Apology accepted," she said quietly.

"Will you be okay now?" Gill asked her.

"I, I think so," she said.

"Good," said Gill, "go back to the others with Bloat. I don't want anyone going off by themselves any more, not if it can be avoided, there's safety in numbers."1

"Right, we'll go back to the rest of the gang now," said Gurgle.

"No, not you, Gurgle, I want you to stay with me for a while, if you don't mind," Gill replied.

"Look, I've already apologised…" he said.

"And Deb has already accepted," Gill said, "that's done and water in the depths of the ocean as far as I'm concerned, but there's something else that I would like to talk to you about."

Gurgle looked from Gill to the uncertain expressions of Deb and Bloat, then back to Gill once more. "Okay," he said.

Gurgle and Gill watched as Bloat escorted Deb back the way they had come. When they were out of sight, Gurgle turned towards Gill, "Listen, I really am sorry, I didn't mean to upset her like that," he said.

"I know," said Gill quietly, "and I'm not angry at you about that. Perhaps if you had intended to be cruel I would be, but as it is, I know that you can't help worrying all of the time."

Gurgle looked down, "You're right, I can't," he said, "but I will try to keep my concerns to myself in the future, I really don't want to upset anyone else."

"No," said Gill, looking intently at him, "I want you to come to me with your concerns, I _need_ you to do that."

"What?!" asked Gurgle, staring at Gill as if he had gone mad.

Gill gave him a small smile, "I'm too reckless sometimes," he admitted to him quietly, "I, I look too far ahead at what I want to achieve, what I want to gain. I don't see the trouble that is right in front of me. But you do, you always do. I need your caution to slow me down sometimes, to prevent me from going off and causing untold amounts of damage. You've been right, or at least partly right, every time you criticised any one of my plans. I was too dismissive of you in the past. I'm sorry. If I'd taken more notice of you, Chuckle's might still be alive."

Gurgle stared at him in stunned silence, "I really didn't expect you to say that," he admitted.

Gill gave him another small smile, "I want you to promise me something," he said quietly.

"What?" Gurgle asked.

Gill sighed, "That every time that you see a flaw in one of my plans, that every time I do something reckless or stupid, you will speak out and tell me so. The others…the others respect me too much to criticise me, but you don't."

"I _do_ respect you," Gurgle insisted, "it's your plans that I don't respect."

"And for good reason," said Gill, "so will you promise me that you will always speak up, at least to me, whenever I look too far that I fail to see what is right in front of me? Will you tell me, even if you don't mention it to the others?"

Gurgle gulped, "I promise, Gill," he said, "I never realised you felt that way."

"Thank you," Gill said sincerely.

"Well, since you did ask and I did promise," said Gurgle, suddenly looking nervous and anxious once more, "are we in danger of germs out here in the ocean?"

Gill sighed, "Yes," he said, "you've lived in a controlled environment all of your lives, so it will take a while to adjust. But before you start panicking, you've been eating a certain type of herb in the last few days, which is a mild poison. You will almost certainly get sick, but you will survive, as you will develop an immunity to this poison, and to the dangerous pathogens in the ocean."

There was a moment of silence, in which Gurgle looked really panicky, but he eventually seemed to be able to control his fear, "Thank you for being honest with me," he said quietly, "at least now I know."

"We should be getting back to the others now," said Gill, after a long pause, "I expect they are starting to get worried."

"As if I ever stopped worrying," said Gurgle, giving him a playful, sad smile.

It didn't take them long to get back to where Peach was talking worriedly to Jacques and Bubbles. As they approached the little group, Gill heard Peach say, "…and I'm really worried about what will happen to Gill if he's right, I mean, he's been almost back to the fish we knew before Chuckles died since he took Nemo under his fin, if he really did send Nemo to his death, I'm afraid that he will become the sort of fish that he was just after Chuckles' death, and I really don't want that to happen to him, you remember what he was like back then…"

"Yes," agreed Bubbles, "surly, moody and irritable," he looked around at the expressions of his companions, "what, someone had to say it."

"So I'm surly, moody and irritable, am I?" asked Gill playfully, coming up behind him.

"Well, sometimes you are," Gurgle admitted, "you did ask me to be honest with you," he added, when he saw Gill's irritated expression.

Gill rolled his eyes, and then looked back at the little gang, "Where's Deb and Bloat?" he asked, suddenly becoming worried upon noticing their absence.

"We thought they were with you," said Peach.

"No, they left a while ago, they should be back by now," Gill replied, starting to fear for their safety.

"Sorry, we got distracted talking to some other fish," came Bloat's voice from behind him.

Gill turned around, and was relieved to see Bloat and Deb swimming towards them. He glared at them both, "And what did I say about not talking to strange fish out here in the ocean?" he demanded.

"See what I mean, surly, moody and irritable," Bubble whispered behind him, just loud enough for Gill to hear.

"Oh, but you'll want to talk to these fish, I guarantee it," laughed Deb.

"And what makes you so sure about that?" Gill demanded.

"Oh, nothing much," Bloat said dismissively, "just the fact that you saved all of their lives."

1This is why accountancy is such a safe and secure profession.


	5. Chapter 5

_C_ _hapter 4 – No Good Deed_

"What are you two talking about?" Gill asked, as Deb and Bloat escorted him away from the rest of the Tank Gang, "I haven't saved any lives, not recently anyway. And that's the sort of thing that you tend to remember."

"You'll see," said Bloat.

"Those fish over there," said Deb, pointing with her left fin, "you're their hero, go and talk to them."

Gill rolled his eyes at them, and then turned his attention towards a group of maybe two dozen fish. They were all looking down at him, with awed expressions. Gill could not remember what sort of fish they were, but they did not seem to be dangerous. He was also sure that he had never seen them before in his life. "There seems to be some mistake…" he began, addressing the fish that were staring at him in a slightly unnerving manner.

"Are you really the fish that taught the little clownfish how to swim down to avoid being caught in a net?" asked one of them.

Gill stared at them in stunned silence for a moment. "Sharkbait?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, "you know Nemo?"

There was a brief murmuring from the group of fish, as though they were discussing this. "Small, young clownfish," said one of them, "got a small fin on one side?"

"Yes!" Gill said, suddenly almost bursting with happiness upon hearing that Nemo had reached safety, "is he okay?"

"He came here a while back," came another voice from the group, or possibly the same voice, Gill could not tell the fish apart, "taught us how to swim down to avoid being caught in a net. Him and his Dad and that blue tang that they hang out with. They seemed fine to me."

"Thank you," said Gill, "you have no idea what it means to me to hear you say that."

"Told you so," muttered Deb from behind him.

"Hey, no worries," one of the fish replied, "so you're the hero of the hour who taught him how to do that, right?"

"Well, I did teach him how to do that," Gill admitted, suddenly feeling rather embarrassed facing such adulation, "but it wasn't really me that saved you, now was it? It was the little clownfish, he just did what I taught him."

"Our actions sometimes have long-term consequences," said Peach, coming towards them with Jacques, Bubbles and Gurgle following her, "you might not have saved them directly yourself, but what you taught Nemo did lead to him saving them, so you were indirectly responsible for saving all of their lives."

"It was still Sharkbait who saved them, not me," Gill insisted, "what a clever little clownfish, remembering everything that I taught him."

"Either way, we still all owe you our lives. Ask us anything, anything at all. We'll help you, if we can."

"Then please tell me what happened," said Gill, "I'm sure all of us would like to know."

"It was only a few days ago," one of the fish said, "there were some fishermen who came out here. Caught us all in a net, and loads more fish besides, who have since swam away again. The little clownfish and his Dad, and the blue tang we told you about earlier, they got inside the net, and got us all to swim down together. So we did. It took a while, but eventually the net broke and we were released to freedom once more."

"What happened to the fishermen?" asked Gill.

"Nothing, as far as we know. Their net broke, but that was all."

Gill found himself feeling relieved that they had not been harmed. He did not want to be responsible for another death, not after what had happened to Chuckles, and being even indirectly responsible for the death of human fishermen was something that he really did not want on his conscience. Fortunately, by the sound of it, they were fine. He looked at the small group of fish again. He had a right to feel proud; they were all alive because of him, even if he had not been directly responsible for saving them. Still, he knew for a fact that pride could cause all kinds of problems, if not properly controlled. "Thank you. I appreciate you telling me all of this," he said to the group of fish.

"No problem," one of the fish said, "we'd like to do something for you in return. Name it, anything you want, we'll do our best to oblige."

Gill looked at them for a long moment. They clearly felt that they were in his debt, and if he could get them to help his little group, it would be beneficial to both groups. But he knew that he should not exploit their willingness to help, did not want to put them in any unnecessary danger. "Can you escort us to the deep ocean end of the EAC?" he asked.

"Heh, we can do more than that," said one of the fish, coming closer toward him, "We'll give you a ride there. Grab onto my back. All of you," he added, turning his attention from Gill and towards his companions, "all of you get on one of our backs. We'll take you to the trench at the deeper end of the EAC. Grab on!"

Gill turned back to the little group, "What do you say?" he asked.

"Makes sense to me," said Bloat.

"Oui d'accord," said Jacques.

"I think we should do as they say, Gill," said Peach.

"We're all in agreement here," said Gurgle, turning from Deb and Bubbles, towards Gill, "this has got to be easier than making our way by ourselves and under our own power."

"We're all in agreement then," said Gill, managing to get onto one of the fish's backs with some difficulty, "take us to the far ocean end of the EAC, and we'll consider it even."

"No problem, anything for you," said one of the fish.

"And you said that talking to strange fish would be dangerous," said Bloat, giving Gill a playful nudge.

"Okay, okay, I was wrong," Gill admitted, "friendly, small fish, colourful fish like us, they're probably okay. It's the drab coloured ones, the large ones, the ones with lots of sharp teeth that you need to avoid at all costs, and don't you forget it."

And with that, the little gang were taken further into the ocean by their new found allies.


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter 5 – The Promise_

They travelled onwards, riding on the back of the fish, as they made their way deeper into the ocean. Day melted into night; night drifted into day once more. And still they travelled onwards. The sights of the ocean were something to behold, especially for the others, who had never lived outside of an aquarium tank. They had never seen such vivid colours, such a variety of plant and fish and other sea creature species, or travelled so fast over so many marvels.

After perhaps a day and a night of constant travelling, they stopped to get some food and rest, before it was time to make further progress on their journey. Peach came up to Gill, "The ocean is amazing, isn't it?" she asked.

"Yes," said Gill, looking at the clear blue above them, "and you thought I was exaggerating when I told you about how wondrous it could be".

"I can understand why you wanted to get back here so much, now," she admitted, "I've never seen anything so beautiful in all my life."

"But there are dangers out here, too," Gill cautioned her, "and I don't think the others quite understand about these dangers. They've lived in such a sheltered environment all of their lives, that it seems that they just think I'm being a neurotic worry wart or something, when I tell them about the dangers that could be hidden out here in the ocean."

"You mean like Gurgle?" she asked playfully.

Gill gave a small laugh, "Don't dismiss his concerns too easily," he said, "if I'd listened to him before, Chuckle's might still be alive, and with us even now."

"Gill," Peach began carefully, "that wasn't your fault, you can't blame yourself for what happened to him. It was that fish-killer Darla, not you who killed him."

"Perhaps," Gill said, "huh, humans. Why do they always try to control everything?"

"It's only natural that sentient creatures try to make life easier for themselves," said Peach.

"Yes, but why try to change things that don't even affect them?" Gill asked. He sighed, "Did you know that goldfish are actually freshwater fish? But Chuckles was a saltwater goldfish, because some humans had decided that they would like to have a goldfish with their saltwater fish, so they decided to breed a special mutant variety of goldfish that could thrive in saltwater. And Chuckles was one of these fish."

"I didn't know that," Peach admitted.

"And then they want to keep us as pets, which wouldn't be so bad if they only kept the ones that were born and bred in captivity, and then looked after them properly. But they don't even do that half of the time, and so we die because of that, and Chuckles is dead, and he's also dead because I could not come up with an effective enough plan to save him," Gill said flatly.

"Gill, are you feeling okay?" Peach asked, giving him a worried look.

Actually, Gill did feel a little tired and irritable, which was strange, because he had had a nice long sleep on their journey here on the back of one of their fish allies. It's starting to happen, he realised, the effect of being in the ocean environment after being in the regulated environment of the tank is starting to have an effect on me, starting to make me feel slightly sick. And I'm the lucky one of our little group, since I spent my earliest years in the ocean, and so have developed a natural immunity to whatever invisible pathogens we've been swimming in for the last few days. Still, my immunity hasn't been boosted since living in the tank, so is almost certainly not as effective as it would have been if I hadn't spent so long outside of the ocean. And I can see it's starting to affect the others, too. Peach seemed to be a slightly paler shade of pink, Bubbles a slightly paler shade of yellow from what he remembered, and they all seemed to be irritating each other with their quirky ways, far more so than had been the case inside of the tank. Well, if that was the worst that was going to happen, they would have escaped lightly, since the situation could have been a lot worse. Gill turned his attention back to Peach, "I'll be fine," he said, "in time."

"You've got to stop blaming yourself every time anything goes wrong," said Peach.

"Why? I'm the leader, aren't I? A leader needs to be responsible for those that he leads," Gill countered.

"Leading is one thing," Peach said, "killing yourself worrying about things that were not even your fault is something else," she indicated the school of fish that were helping them, "they're alive, because of you," she said, "Nemo's alive, because of you. We're all out here, in the freedom of the ocean, because of you. No one blames you for the mistakes you've made, so it's about time that you stopped blaming yourself."

"Perhaps," Gill said again, sounding uncertain.

"We all respect you and love you," Peach said quietly, "I know they're always arguing with you and squabbling amongst each other, but that doesn't mean that they don't look up to you, and they'll always turn to you for guidance, whenever they need help. We all need you," she said.

Gill was silent for a long moment, "And I'm not a young fish anymore," he said quietly.

"You're not old, either," Peach said.

"No, not yet," Gill admitted, giving her a small smile, "and I remember what Chuckles said to me, after one of my failed escape plans back in the tank. He said that I could never go back to the ocean again. I didn't really understand him back then, told him that I would, one day, that I'd come up with a plan that would work."

"And you did," Peach said.

"Yes, but Chuckles was also right," said Gill, giving a huge sigh, "I was a young fish when I was taken from the ocean. Now I'm not, not any more. The fish that was born in the ocean, the fish that I was when I was young…he doesn't exist anymore. Even the cells of my body are different from those of the young fish that was born in the ocean. I'm someone different now, and even the ocean seems different from what I remember from when I was young."

"Better or worse?" asked Peach.

Gill gave her a small smile, "No, neither, just different," he said.

"We all grow and change," said Peach, "and that's a good thing," she added.

"I hope so," said Gill, "I really do, but I'm still afraid for the others, because I don't think they know how to grow in the ocean, they just don't have the instinct for it."

"They'll learn," said Peach, "in time, and with you to guide us, and teach us."

Gill gave her a long look, "At some point they will have to learn to live in the ocean without me," he said quietly.

"You're not thinking of leaving us?!" Peach asked, sounding suddenly shocked.

"No, of course not," said Gill reassuringly, "but the ocean is a dangerous place, and as I said before, I'm not a young fish any more. Sooner or later, they will have to manage without a guide."

"When we all reach our destination," said Peach, "we'll have a chance to learn to survive and thrive in the ocean. In time, I'm sure we'll all be able to adjust."

"If we all reach our destination," said Gill quietly.

"Not if, when," Peach insisted.

Gill sighed quietly, "If," he insisted, "listen to me, Peach, if something happens to me, they'll need someone sensible to lead them and guide them. Please promise me that, if something does happen to me, you'll make sure that they reach a place of safety, somewhere that they can learn to live and grow, somewhere that they can consider a home."

Peach was silent for a long moment, "Nothing is going to happen to you," she insisted.

"Of course not, of course it won't, I hope so too," said Gill, "you have no idea how much. But we have to be realistic, the ocean presents numerous dangers, and if something were to happen to me, and believe me, I really hope that it doesn't, but if it does," his voice became really quiet, "then I need to know that someone will be looking out for them, taking care of them, until they are able to take care of themselves. Please, Peach, promise me. They'll listen to your wisdom, I know they will."

Peach was silent for a long moment. Finally, in barely more than a whisper, she said, "All right Gill, I promise, but only if you'll promise not to take any unnecessary risks, none of us want to be able to manage without you, so don't do anything too foolhardy."

"I promise," said Gill.

There was a moment of companionable silence, which was eventually broken by a fish asking them to get back on his back, as it was time for them to travel deeper into the EAC once more.


	7. Chapter 7

_Chapter 6 – Inside the Trench_

Day drifted into night, night melted into day, and they continued on their journey along the EAC, into the deeper ocean. Gill found himself feeling tired, irritable and ill, doubtlessly the effect of being exposed to the pollutants within the ocean once more. He tried to ignore these feelings. They were all alive, they were with friends, and they were making reasonable progress. The others seemed to be feeling sick as well. He often heard Gurgle whimpering about how ill he felt, only to be greeted with heartfelt agreement from one or more of the others. Gill considered snapping at them, telling them not to make such a fuss, but stopped himself. They had lived their entire lives inside a regulated environment, and had never been sick before. They did not know what it was like, did not seem to realise that it was only a temporary inconvenience, but found it to be an unknown and horrible experience, all the more so because they didn't know what to expect. It would take them time to adjust. Besides, they almost certainly felt a lot worse than Gill did himself, having never developed a natural immunity to the pathogens within the ocean. He knew that they were feeling really ill when a school of dolphins passed by them, creating a huge number of bubbles as it did so, and Bubble's didn't even comment on it, let alone try to follow the trail of bubbles. Which was just as well, as Gill was convinced that they would be a lot safer if they all stayed together.

In time, they came to the deeper ocean end of the East Australian Current. There was a large trench just beyond it. The fish that had escorted them safely here told them that they should swim through the trench, not over it. Gill was glad about that. In their current state, he doubted that any of them, with the possible exception of himself, would have been able to swim over it anyway, and it would have presented a huge problem for Peach and Jacques even if they had been in perfect health. So they said their thanks and their farewell to their guides, and made their way inside the trench.

Progress inside the trench was slow. The others had to stop several times, as they were feeling sick, and needed to purge their bodies of the toxins that had been building up within them. Gill assured them that this was a good sign, that their bodies were gradually adjusting to their new environment, and were trying to eliminate the dangerous pathogens from within them. This seemed to make the others feel a little better, although they were so distracted by their own illnesses and associated miseries that they were unable to take much notice of anything Gill said to try to reassure them. And, Gill reminded himself, it was probably better that, if they had to get ill, they would do so inside of the trench. This meant that they could not be attacked from a predator from the sides, and they would be able to clearly see one coming from the front, meaning that the only real danger came from behind them. Gill kept a constant look out, anyway, just to make sure. But there did not appear to be any other creature within the trench apart from the Tank Gang themselves, and the jellyfish far above them. Having never seen jellyfish before, the Tank Gang stared up at them in wonder, when they stopped to get some food and rest inside of the trench.

"Those creatures are amazing," said Peach, staring up at them in awe, "and so pretty."

"Pretty but deadly, just like the ocean itself," said Gill, "you wouldn't want to get close to one of them, the tentacles can give a fish nasty stings which could prove fatal, especially in our weakened state."

"But we'll be safe down here?" Peach asked, "Won't we?"

"We should be," said Gill, staring up at the tentacles of the jellyfish above them, "and the good thing is, no predator will be able to attack us from above, not without first having to fight its way through a whole jellyfish forest, anyway."

"That sounds familiar," said Peach.

"Hmm, 'a whole jellyfish forest,' yes," said Gill thoughtfully, "it does, doesn't it? And I know why. When Nigel was telling us all about Sharkbait's Dad coming to rescue him, he said something about him fighting his way through a whole jellyfish forest on his way to Sydney."

"That means we're going in the right direction, then?" said Peach.

"Yes, retracing back the way he came to find Sharkbait," said Gill, "with any luck, once we get out of this trench we will be near to our new home."

"That's good," said Peach, and stared up at the jellyfish above them for a long moment, "We'll have to get going again, soon, won't we Gill?"she asked.

"Yes," Gill replied, "the longer we wait, the less they'll feel like getting moving again. They don't understand what it means to be ill, and part of them just wants to stop, lie down and wait until it passes. But we can't do that, not for long, we have to keep moving to keep ourselves safe."

"I'll go and tell the others, then," said Peach.

"Good," replied Gill, "the sooner they get moving again, the better they should start to feel."

Gill knew that they were all unwell since none of them complained, not even Gurgle, when he said that it was time to get moving once more. Instead, without a word, they started to make their way through the trench once more, without their usual squabbling. Gill found that he actually missed their constant arguing, as it had, in some ways at least, been a reassuring aspect of the Tank Gang; that they would argue constantly, but would always support each other whenever one of them was in need. As it was, progress continued to be slow, but steady. When night fell, they others stopped and slept, while Gill guarded alone. He stared up at the jellyfish above him, feeling tired, but knowing that he was the only one who would be able to fight off any predator that might threaten his little gang. At least he was starting to feel less ill than he had done previously. And he hoped that a good night's rest would help the recovery process for the rest of the Tank Gang.

It seemed to. As the early morning sun's rays could be seen shining far above them, peeking through the jellyfish forest, so the Tank Gang had returned to bickering and arguing with each other once more. Gill smiled silently to himself upon hearing them squabbling. It meant that they were feeling better, if they were well enough to argue again. And the edge of the trench was in sight, although far in the distance. He pointed this out to his little gang, and said that they could rest once more when they reached the edge of the trench. This appeared to give them renewed vigour, as they seemed to make their way towards it with an increasing enthusiasm, energy and sense of purpose.

They moved on, as the sun climbed higher in the sky, and the jellyfish forest slowly thinned out. Gill realised that he was pushing the Tank Gang to their limits in their current state, but assured them that they would have a chance to rest as soon as they were out of the trench. They reluctantly agreed to keep going. Gill himself was feeling the lack of sleep starting to affect him, and hoped that Peach at least would be well enough to keep guard when they next needed to rest, as he really did need to catch up on his sleep if he was going to be able to lead the Tank Gang on to their destination. And so, as they continued on their way, the Tank Gang constantly bickering and arguing with each other, Gill smiled silently to himself, secretly finding their squabbling very reassuring.

They reached the edge of the trench. They practically collapsed from exhaustion. Yet it seemed that they had made it through the worst of their illnesses, and were on the way to making a full recovery. But they needed to rest if they were to do so. Gill offered to go and find some herbs for them, to help with the healing process, and then swam above the little group, hoping to get a better view from above.

That was when he noticed the barracuda. He was sure that it hadn't been there even a moment before, but now it was just staring at him, eyes lacking any form of intelligence, a mind that thought of nothing except answering the most basic of needs. And right now its most basic of needs was the need to feed. Gill knew that he could not reason with it, could not intimidate it, could not hope to trick it, for all it was thinking about, looking at him, was that he was food, just waiting to be consumed.

"We're coming to help you Gill," came Bloat's voice.

"No," Gill insisted, his voice barely more than a whisper, "stay down, all of you, it's the only chance you've got in your present state. Gurgle, tell the others that I'm the only one who might have a chance against this thing right now."

"But Gill…" came Gurgle's worried voice.

"You made a promise to me, Gurgle," Gill reminded him.

"I…he's right," said Gurgle, sounding resigned, "we should all stay down. He's the only one of us that has even the smallest chance against that creature right now."

"But…" that was Peach's voice.

"Drab colours, no interest in chatting, large fish with very sharp teeth," Gill said in the same tone, "exactly the type of fish that I instructed you all to avoid. Peach?"

"Yes Gill?" she whispered back.

"If something happens to me, remember your promise, make sure that they all reach a place of safety."

"But I…"

"You promised, Peach," Gill reminded her.

"Yes Gill," she said, sounding defeated.

That was the last thing that Gill heard before the creature lunged for him. Gill jinked out of the way just in time, swimming as fast as he could away from the trench. The most important thing was to get the barracuda away from the Tank Gang, who would have barely had a chance of surviving a barracuda attack when they were in perfect health, never mind in their current weakened state. And so Gill swam further and further away from the entrance of the trench, knowing that the most important thing right now was to get the barracuda as far away from his friends as possible, so that it would no longer be a danger to any one of them.

Even if it cost him his life.


	8. Chapter 8

_Chapter 7 – The Barracuda_

 **Author's Notes – Yay, more reviews. You don't want Gill to die? Good! That means I'm succeeding with this story, if you care what happens to him and the rest of the Tank Gang, and want to see them reunited with Nemo once more. I wouldn't kill him off (or would I?) as he's one of my favourite characters (you can probably tell). But there has to be drama and conflict if there is going to be a story, especially as I'm following Andrew Stanton's original (Stantonian?) in there being no truly evil characters within this story, merely flawed characters arguing with each other, and the fundamental dangers of the ocean itself. Besides, I've heard that Gill and the rest of the Tank Gang are to appear in** _ **Finding Dory**_ **, which canonically is set about 6 months after** _ **Finding Nemo**_ **…one more great reason to go and see it when it finally comes out. Now on with the fanfic. Enjoy!**

Gill swam away from the barracuda as fast as he could. All he thought about was that he had to lure the creature away from his friends, to get it away from them as fast as possible. The creature was fast, however, streamlined, a powerful killing and eating machine. It took all of Gill's energy just to stay ahead of it, jinking out of range of those sharp, powerful teeth. Twice, he got far too close to those teeth, as the creature snapped at him, its teeth mere inches away from Gill's tail. But Gill was also a fast and powerful swimmer, and motivated by even more than just a desire to keep his precious life. Getting that creature away from the other members of the Tank Gang was what was most important right now; and so he swam on, never daring to stop or slow down, desperate to get that predator as far away from his friends as possible, no matter the cost.

Gill lost all sense of time. But, when he finally managed to steal a quick glance behind himself, there was no sign of the Tank Gang, or the trench. Perhaps he had managed to lure the creature far enough away from them all, now, that they would be safe from this predator. If that was indeed the case, then Gill could concentrate all of his remaining energy on his own survival. But he could feel his energy draining away fast; his lack of sleep was starting to have an effect on him, and it occurred to him that he could not keep on swimming away from the barracuda for much longer, that sooner or later – and probably sooner – he would need to rest, or would die anyway, from exhaustion. Gill quietly cursed himself; as a young fish, he was sure that he would have been able to swim away from any predator for hours on end, to escape the jaws of death with relative ease. But he had to admit to himself that he was no longer a young fish, no longer the youth that he had been when he had first lived in the ocean, a youth in the fullness of health and vitality. Now, he was an aging cripple, although he hated to admit it, even to himself. But with age came experience, cunning and guile. He remembered everything that he had learned while in the tank, including how to compensate for his damaged right fin by making his left fin work all the harder, and using the strength of his tail for propulsion and an increased amount of speed.

None of it would be enough. The barracuda was coming closer with every second, and Gill felt the exhaustion telling his body, in no uncertain terms, that he would have to rest soon, no matter what. But that also was not an option, because if he were to stop, then that creature would simply eat him…

 _And would that really be so bad?_ A secret, dark place within Gill whispered to himself, _to die back in the ocean where you had once been born, to die saving all of your friends. Isn't that what you wanted all along?_

Gill avoided the jaws of death once more, as he replied to that part of himself: _Yes, you are partly right. But not now, not yet, I have so much else that I need to do. I'm not going to give up, not until I know that there is no other way._

 _And what other way could there be?_

Good question, Gill thought. Well, I can't keep out-swimming that creature, but perhaps I can out-think it. What would a human do in this situation? He looked around himself momentarily, once more avoiding the barracuda's sharp teeth. A human would use tools to try and even the odds. Okay. What tools can I use against this creature?

Gill looked around himself, as quickly as he dared, all the while trying to avoid the jaws of death that were never far behind him. Was there some kind of plant that he could hide in? Some small cave that he could swim towards, and have a chance of earning some precious moments of rest away from the predator? There just wasn't enough time to come up with a plan. Perhaps he should have swam back into the jellyfish forest in the trench; he might have been able to trick the barracuda into being stung by their tentacles, and therefore have been able to use them in order to escape with his life. Well, it was too late to worry about that now; he was miles from the trench, miles from the jellyfish forest, miles from his friends, and would have to depend on his own wits if he was going to escape with his life.

Ah, there, ahead of him in the distance, small metal objects, in front of a much larger metal contraption. Signs of long abandoned human activity within the ocean; he might be able to use them to his advantage. Finding reserves of energy that he was not aware that he had, he swam towards the metal ahead of him, the jaws of the barracuda never far from him. As he got closer, he could see that the small metal objects were mines, doubtlessly left over from one of humanity's countless wars with each other. They were in front of a submarine. Good, his chances of survival had just increased. He was small and agile enough that he could swim between the mines without them exploding, and he was not sure that the same could be said for the barracuda. Anyway, if he made his way towards the submarine, there could well be places that he could fit into that the barracuda would not be able to reach. In any case, there was not time enough to come up with a more complicated plan.

Gill swam on, reaching the mine field far faster than he would have thought possible, fear and a desperate desire to survive at any cost granting him a last burst of speed. He swam between the mines, always keeping his eyes towards the submarine, and the possible safety that he could find within.

He had barely reached the submarine when he heard one of the mines explode, almost certainly the result of the barracuda getting too close to it, and finding out, too late, that it had made a fatal mistake. But Gill wasn't going to wait around to find out. The submarine's door was slightly ajar, and he was able to force his way inside the long abandoned human contraption and to safety, just as the other mines also started to explode. Gill barely noticed, however, as the exhaustion that he had been trying to ignore for hours was finally catching up with him, and he felt himself losing consciousness within the relative safety of the submarine.


	9. Chapter 9

_Chapter 8 – Near Death_

 **Author's Notes – Yay, you think this is really good and want me to update soon. Well, here's the next chapter. Enjoy!**

Gill did not know how long he had been unconscious for, but he was dragged back into the world of consciousness by a feeling of pain all along his body, as well as a sense of acute exhaustion. Gill opened his eyes momentarily, looked around himself briefly, sighed, and closed his eyes once more, glad for a moment of rest at last. His scars were aching, and he knew that he had pushed himself further than he had ever done before. But he was safe now, had a chance to rest, relax and get his breath back, inside the submarine. Yes, that's what this contraption is called, he remembered, a submarine; because humans use this thing to explore submerged marine environments. It wasn't really funny, but Gill laughed at it anyway, as his body was reaching the other side of exhaustion, a state where everything suddenly seemed to be amusing.

There was a small laugh in response to his own. Gill instantaneously became as still as possible, listening intently. So, I'm not alone, he thought, opening his eyes cautiously once more, and looking around himself quickly. Someone else is here, and I'm in no fit state to fight off any creature that isn't friendly. Right at the moment, Gill knew that he could barely swim, could barely do anything; even breathing seemed to be difficult, although suddenly he realised that he also no longer felt any aches or pains. He closed his eyes again, hoping that whatever had just laughed had not noticed him, or was not interested in him in any way.

The laugh came again. It sounded musical and friendly, did not seem threatening in any way. Gill opened his eyes, and looked around at this strange, human-made environment. He was resting in an ancient sink, covered in algae and blue-green with age. Out of the corner of his eye, Gill spotted something moving quickly away from him, something that was orange and white, and therefore clearly noticeable against the blue and green background of the submarine.

Ignoring the protestations of his body, he swam towards the creature. It was small, and striped. Gill shook himself. No, that couldn't be right, could it? Sharkbait couldn't be all the way out here, in this submarine, could he? Or could he? The ocean could be a strange and dangerous place, after all, and was that really any more peculiar, fundamentally, than Gill having made friends with a pelican? But if Sharkbait was here, then why was he alone? He could be in danger, and Gill was in no position to help him right now. Nevertheless, he had to know, "Sharkbait?" he whispered.

The fish stopped swimming. Yes, it was definitely a clownfish, although it seemed larger and a lighter shade of orange than he remembered. Still, it had been a while, and Gill knew that he might not be seeing and experiencing things completely accurately in his weakened state, "Nemo," he said quietly, "it's me, Gill. Is that you?"

The fish swam towards him. It was only then that Gill noticed that the fish was clearly female. She was much larger than Sharkbait, but slightly smaller than his Dad. Gill suddenly felt a fool for assuming that any clownfish he encountered would have been Sharkbait; there were doubtlessly thousands of other clownfish nearby. He was going to apologize for the mistake, when the fish came towards him, reached out her fin, and smiled at him, "No," she said, her voice quiet, but compassionate, "we never met in life. Yet we are linked with love for Nemo."

Gill stared at her for a long moment. I'm seeing things, he realised, I've pushed my body too far, too fast, and now it's trying to make sense of the external stimulus that it's receiving in this state of exhaustion. But just because I'm hallucinating doesn't mean I shouldn't be polite, "You're Nemo's Mum?" he asked.

She laughed, "Indeed. And I know who you are, his hero," she said, "let me show you how he sees you."

I'm dying, thought Gill, in a strangely detached way; I've pushed my body too hard, too far, and now I'm dying, and I'm trying to make sense of everything. Still, if this was dying, it was not unpleasant. The female fish took his unresisting left fin, and led him towards the mirror over the sink. She wiped away some of the algae, and indicated for Gill to look at his reflection in the mirror. Gill did so.

It was himself, clearly, but idealised, larger, stronger, braver. The black on his body seemed shinier; the white and the yellow seemed to glow with an inner and pleasant light. His scars, although still there, seemed to only enhance his rugged, handsome appearance, as did his tattered fin on his right side. Gill reached towards the image with his good left fin, and touched it momentarily. Oh, how I wish I was the way that I look in this mirror, he thought with a sigh. He turned back to the clownfish, and indicated his reflection, "That's not me," he said simply, "I'm a flawed fish."

"You risked your life to save him," she said, "you did the same for your friends just now. This is indeed a part of who you are."

Gill smiled at her, but shook himself slightly, "No. Ask Gurgle some time. He will be happy to tell you that I take too many risks sometimes, that I don't think through my plans, he can always see the reasons why they won't work." He smiled in spite of himself. He never thought that he would have missed Gurgle's complaining so much.

"They look up to you," the clownfish said, "all of them do. But you've done enough, given enough of yourself. If you choose, you could lie down here, let go of all the pain and worry. Let me show you what you could have, now, if you want," she led him to another mirror, and indicated for him to look into it. Gill did so, and smiled. It was the ocean as he remembered it from his youth, alive with colour and happiness. Everything seemed bigger, brighter and more vibrant than he remembered. To rest finally in those welcoming waters, to be away from pain and suffering, to know no more anxiety or guilt…he placed his good fin on the mirror, suddenly longing for what was on offer, and yet knowing that he could not accept it. "No," he said quietly, "not yet. I'm not ready to lay down and die, I can't, not while the others still need me to help and guide them," he turned back to the clownfish, "you understand, don't you? A part of me really wants to, but there are others that are still depending on me to lead them. I can't leave them, not yet, not until they are ready to face the ocean without my help."

The clownfish merely smiled at him, "Somehow, I knew that would be your answer," she said, "yes, go back to them. Go back to your friends, go back to life, and live it as my son knows that you can. Friends will be along to help you soon."

Without another word, the clownfish vanished, and everything seemed to fade and shimmer for a moment. Then Gill felt the aches and pains returning to his body. He did not know if what he had experienced was real, or just a hallucination caused by his body being close to death. Perhaps it didn't matter either way. He had to return to his friends, and he had to find Sharkbait and his Dad. He wanted to live, more than anything; but now that he had come so close to death, he realised suddenly that he no longer feared it, for life could be much harder, harsher and more challenging than death could ever hope to be.


	10. Chapter 10

_Chapter 9 – Sharks of the Deep_

"Well, what have we here then?" Gill opened his eyes at the voice, and the first thing that he saw was teeth.

Many sharp, pointed teeth. Many sharp, pointed teeth that were very close to him. These teeth were part of a smile, which was on a shark. Gill tried to back away, only to find that he was already pressed against some kind of wall. He turned his attention back to the shark. It was a hammerhead shark, so called due to the shape of its head. It was looking directly at him in a way which was not unfriendly, and smiling.

Revealing, as it did so, those rows of very sharp, very pointed teeth.

Okay, thought Gill, trying to stop himself from panicking. I am currently in a submarine, with a shark. This is not a good position to be in, but this shark is obviously intelligent, since it can talk, and that means that it can be reasoned with, which also means that it can be tricked. Gill felt too exhausted to move an inch, which meant that swimming away from the shark was not an option, but he still might be able to out think it; perhaps he would be able to rely on his wits to survive this encounter.

"What you found there, mate?" a second voice echoed around the submarine, followed by a second shark, complete with very sharp, very pointed teeth and scary smile. As the creature came closer to Gill, he realized that it was a mako. Good, he thought to himself sarcastically, I'd hate to be eaten by a shark and not know which kind it was.

"Seems to be some kind of angelfish," said the hammerhead, pointing at Gill with its left fin.

"That's not an angelfish, that's some kind of idol, you can tell by that long top fin on its head," replied the mako.

You can call be anything you like, as long as it isn't 'lunch' thought Gill, staring up at the pair of sharks. Okay, I'm in a submarine, now with two sharks. This is also not a good position to be in, but maybe, just maybe, it's a better position than being with just one shark. Perhaps I can trick them into fighting over which one of them will eat me, and slip away while they are arguing with each other. Anyway, I'm feeling too tired and weak to come up with a more complicated plan right now.

"Pretty little thing, isn't it?" said the hammerhead, almost absently.

"Yeah, shame about those scars on its side, though," the mako replied.

"Scars on its side?" this was yet another voice, belonging to yet another shark. Gill looked up as a great white approached the others, "What have you found here, boys?" asked the great white.

"Some kind of angelfish," said the hammerhead.

"I told you, it's not an angelfish, it's an idol. And it looks like it's hurt," said the mako.

"It's not…bleeding is it?" the great white asked, suddenly, inexplicably, seeming to be nervous.

"Don't be daft, that's some kind of old wound it's got," said the mako dismissively, "looks like it got it from stinking humans, by the look of those scars."

"Yeah, they think they own everything, as we've discussed before," said the hammerhead, "and they are such hypocrites, always complaining about any shark that attacks them, when they kill far more of each other than sharks ever killed of them."

"Too right, mates," the mako replied, "and they don't even eat the whole shark when they catch and kill it, but just chop off the fin and turn it into soup. And then they put all kinds of signs up on their beaches, telling each other that they should be wary of shark infested waters, when they have more to fear from each other anyway."

"Humans aren't all bad," Gill heard himself say, and then wondered why, "they can be kind as well as cruel."

All three sharks had turned to look at him now, and Gill found himself staring up at more teeth than he had ever seen before. More sharp, pointed teeth.

"Is that so?" asked the great white, "And you know something about humans, do you?"

"Enough," Gill replied, "sometimes they are cruel, but they can also be kind, and sometimes they are cruel when attempting to be kind," he sighed, "they're not so very different from us, really."

"Hmm, there might just be something in that…" the great white said, suddenly seemingly lost in thought.

"Bruce, I'm telling you, those scars," said the hammerhead shark, "they're not from any fish I've ever seen, not from any other sea creature either, I bet."

"You don't think he's…" the mako said, staring at Gill in a way which was very disconcerting, especially from a shark. With all of those very pointed, very sharp teeth.

The great white, Bruce apparently, stared intently at Gill's side, in a way which made Gill shudder.

"Hmm," said Bruce again, "now that you mention it mates, you just might be right. What did the unfunny clownfish say that his little boy said about the scars on that idol? Oh yes, 'quite sinister when you first look at them, but when you get used to them, really quite attractive,' well, something like that, anyway," Bruce laughed.

"Clownfish?" Gill asked quietly, "you know a clownfish?" I'm talking to sharks? Why am I talking to sharks? Well, at least while I'm talking to sharks they are not eating me, which is far better than the alternative. Okay. I'm fine with talking to sharks.

"Yeah, what was his name now?" said Bruce, "spends all of his time with that forgetful blue tang Sheila, went half way across the ocean looking for his little boy. What a father he was!" Bruce turned to the other two sharks, "I never knew my father!" he wailed.

"Come on now Bruce, group hug!" said the mako.

"Yes, group hug!" said the hammerhead, and both sharks embraced the great white.

Okay, thought Gill, staring up at the trio of sharks. I am currently in a submarine, surrounded by insane sharks. This will be something to tell Sharkbait when I get out of here. And these three seem to know his Dad. But I thought Nigel said that Sharkbait's Dad blew them up! Stories grow and change in the telling, though, get exaggerated as they are retold…I still can't believe that I'm talking to sharks. "Marlin," said Gill, remembering when Sharkbait had told Nigel that that was the name of his Dad, "Marlin the clownfish, Sharkb-Nemo's Dad. You know him?"

All three sharks had stopped hugging each other and turned their attention back to Gill, "You know Marlin?" Bruce asked.

"Not well," Gill admitted. He had only met him once, under circumstances that had not exactly been conducive to casual conversation, "but I know his son Nemo."

"See, I told you, didn't I tell you? He's that idol from that tank," said the mako excitedly.

"Nemo talks about me?" Gill asked, "My name is Gill," he added.

The three sharks stared at him in silence for a long moment. "Oh yeah, mate," said Bruce, "talks about you all the time, does the little clownfish fella. Always talking to his Dad and the blue tang Sheila about you. Seems you've made quite an impression on the little fella."

"You met his Dad while he was making his way to Sydney, is that right?" Gill asked.

"Yeah, that's right mate," replied the great white, "came to one of our meetings, too. Hasn't been back since, I don't know why. His little blue tang friend comes all the time, though," he added.

"Meetings?" asked Gill, starting to wonder if he was still hallucinating.

"Yeah," said the hammerhead, and raised one of his fins in the air, "you all know the pledge, mates," he said, looking from Bruce to the mako.

"I am a nice shark, not a mindless eating machine. If I am to change this image, I must first change myself. Fish are friends, not food," they all said, more or less in union.

Gill stared at them. So that was how Marlin had defeated them…by not really defeating them at all. Still, they did not seem to be a danger towards him, at least at the moment, and, after all, he had seen the inside of a pelican's mouth and very nearly been eaten by a barracuda. Perhaps asking sharks for help was not so strange, considering everything else he had been through since returning to the ocean. "Fish are friends, not food," he repeated, "you truly believe that?"

"Of course, mate," said the great white, turning his attention back to him, "it's all part of the steps."

"Will you help me, in that case?" Gill asked, suddenly wondering if he was as mad as the sharks.

Bruce turned to the other two sharks, "What do you say, mates? You want to help the little fella?"

"Sure," said the hammerhead.

"Fine by me," said the mako.

"Then we're agreed," said Bruce, turning his attention back to Gill, "you name it, we'll do it for you, if we can," he said.

"Thank you," said Gill, "I have some friends that I would like you to meet, and I am sure that they would be very interested to meet you three."


	11. Chapter 11

_Chapter 10 – Back at the Trench_

As Gill approached the trench, he saw his little gang gathered together, apparently arguing with each other, as usual. Still, they seemed to have all made a remarkable recovery from their illnesses, something for which Gill was immensely thankful. Gill indicated for the sharks to stay back, since he did not want to frighten the rest of the Tank Gang with their presence, at least, not yet. As Gill swam closer to the Tank Gang, he could hear Gurgle and Bloat arguing.

"…and just who died and decided to make you leader, anyway?" Bloat demanded of the gramma.

Gurgle sighed, placing a fin over his head, "I really, really wish you hadn't put it that way," he said, "and believe me, I'm no leader, and I really don't want to be. But at least I'm not a delusional optimist either. We can't wait by this trench forever hoping that Gill will return to us, there could be more of those creatures around, just waiting to make us lunch, and I'm sure that Gill wouldn't have wanted that. You know as well as I do that it would have been a very special fish that could have survived an encounter with that thing."

"Gill is a very special fish," this was from Peach, her voice very quiet.

Gurgle turned his attention towards her. Gill felt a slight pang of sympathy towards the gramma as Peach stared up at Gurgle, her eyes filled with pain. Gill knew that Gurgle was not naturally cruel, just very pessimistic. Gurgle gave Peach a small smile, "Okay, I agree," he began quietly, "Gill is…was a very special fish, I've certainly never met a braver or smarter fish, and I doubt that I ever will. We've got that on our side. But on the other side, there's that creature, with all of those teeth. Smarts wouldn't have been enough to survive an encounter with that thing."

"You seem really willing to accept that he's dead," Bloat accused Gurgle.

Gurgle sighed again, "Believe me, I don't want to believe that any more than you do. But we have to be realistic. We can't just wait for him forever, sooner or later we are going to have to move away from this place, learn to live without him, learn to make a new home, a new life for ourselves."

"Gill's still alive, you'll see," this came from Deb, who had tears in her eyes, and defiance in her voice.

Gurgle turned his attention towards her, "Look, I love…loved Gill as much as you did," he began, and then turned to the accusing stares of the other members of the Tank Gang, "all of you," he added. He sighed once more, "But the ocean is a dangerous place. Fish die all the time, and I'm pretty sure that Gill has died the way that he would have wanted, back in the ocean where he was born, dying to save his friends…"

His voice trailed off as Gill placed his good fin on Gurgle's side. The gramma almost leapt in alarm at seeing him. Gill grinned at him mischievously, "So you love me, do you?" he asked.

A moment later, Gill found himself being squeezed in the most enthusiastic hug he had ever experienced. "I didn't want to believe that you were dead," Gurgle said, in-between sobs, "but I…" his voice trailed off.

"I know," said Gill, "oh, and Gurgle?"

"Yes Gill?"

"I'm covered with germs."

Gurgle gave a small scream upon hearing that, "Ah, you're right!" with that the gramma swam down towards where Jacques was waiting with the others, "Clean me, please!" he said.

Gill watched while the cleaner shrimp rolled him clean, and laughed quietly to himself as he did so. The others were coming towards him, and now Peach and Deb were hugging him a manner not unlike Gurgle's most recent hug.

"How did you survive that thing?" asked Bloat.

"It wasn't easy," Gill said, "I think I came very close to death. But I had help," he indicated the sharks, who had just come forward, and were now looking down at the suddenly silent Tank Gang.

"G'day mates," said Bruce, "the name's Bruce. And these are my mates Anchor and Chum," he indicated the hammerhead and the mako by his side.

"These gentlemen have generously offered to take us to Sharkbait and his Dad," said Gill, staring at the stunned expressions of each member of the Tank Gang.

"Are you crazy?" asked Gurgle, seemingly the first to find his voice, "no, don't answer that, stupid question, of course you're crazy! But this is madness, even for you!"

"It's okay," Gill said, "these are the sharks that Sharkbait's Dad blew up."

Stunned silence descended once more. Gill realized that that probably had not been the best way of phrasing it. He gave the Tank Gang an apologetic smile, "Look, if we go with them, then we are not likely to be attacked by any other predators, now are we, as they will be afraid of the sharks."

Gurgle yanked him away from Deb and Peach, pulling at his unresisting good fin and dragging him away from the others. "Look," he said, "I'm glad that you are alive, really I am, but going with sharks…" he shook himself, "we won't have to worry about other predators, because we'll be with the top predators of the ocean! Sharks are the best at what they do, and what they do is eat fish! They're basically fish-eating machines! This is your craziest plan yet, and that is saying something."

Gill laughed, "I love you too, Gurgle," he said, "never afraid to speak your mind, and it helps that you were right about just about everything, as always. Thank you for keeping your promise to me, your objections have been noted. If we are eaten alive, you have my express permission to say I told you so."

"Oh, thank you so very much," Gurgle replied sarcastically, "and believe me, I have never been more glad of anything than to find out that you hadn't died just now, but that doesn't mean that I'm going to keep quiet about your latest crazy idea."

"I'm not sure that you were not right, about even that, the dying, I mean," Gill said thoughtfully, "I know that I came very close to death out there, and I think I might have died, although only a little bit."

Gurgle's eyes went wide, "Sometimes you scare me," he admitted.

"It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be," Gill said, "part of me just wanted to give up and lie down. But I couldn't."

"Why not?" asked Gurgle, sounding on the verge of hysterics.

"Because of you," Gill replied.

"Oh really?" Gurgle asked sceptically.

"Really," Gill said seriously, and then moved his good fin to encompass all of the rest of Tank Gang, who were watching the two of them uncertainly, "all of you. I knew that I couldn't just give up, not yet, not while you still needed me to lead and guide you, not until you are safe and have established a home out here in the ocean. So these nice sharks escorted me back to you, and now I'm here."

Gurgle stared at him in silence for a long moment. He looked up at the sharks, who were grinning down at him, showing very many, very sharp teeth. He turned his attention back to Gill once more, "And you really trust sharks?" he demanded in a quiet whisper.

"They escorted me back to you without harming me in any way," Gill replied.

"And it didn't occur to you that they might have just wanted to reach here so that they could eat all of us, rather than just being satisfied with you?" Gurgle demanded quietly.

"I didn't think of that," Gill admitted, "but they didn't know that I had friends when they first met me, and didn't try to harm me, so I don't think that that's very likely."

"They eat fish," Gurgle insisted, "it's what sharks do!"

"These sharks have sworn off fish," Gill explained patiently.

"Oh really?" Gurgle asked sceptically, "So what is it that they do eat, might I ask?"

"Well, they're not too fond of dolphins, I know that," said Gill.

Gurgle shook himself, "Sharks, dolphins, to fish like us, what's the difference?"

"Well, quite a lot, actually," said Gill, "sharks are fish and dolphins are mammals. Dolphins give birth to live young rather than laying eggs, and don't have that many at a time, and they are able to regulate their own body temperature…"

"I meant that they both just think of us as food!" Gurgle insisted, "Besides, is this really the time for a lesson in marine biology?"

"Listen," said Gill calmly, "these sharks chose to help me, they didn't have to. I appreciate your concerns, as always, but there are seven of us, and only three of them. I'm sure that they are not deceiving us, and even if they are, surely we are clever enough to be able to outsmart a few sharks."

"You might be, but I'm not," Gurgle insisted, "and I'm not going anywhere with any shark!" he folded his fins in front of himself in a gesture of defiance.

Gill sighed, "Okay," he said quietly, "in that case, come with me and explain to Bruce and his friends why you don't want to come with them."

Gurgle suddenly became rigid, "Talk…to a shark?" he asked.

"No," said Gill patiently, "talk to three sharks."

"Ah…you want me to talk to them?" Gurgle asked.

"Well, if you don't want to come with them, then it's only fair and polite that you explain to them why you feel that way," said Gill, keeping his tone reasonable.

"But, but…" Gurgle began, "you're our leader, can't you…"

"You can be leader for a while, if you like," said Gill, trying not to laugh at Gurgle's worried expression.

"No, you are welcome to the position, believe me," said Gurgle enthusiastically, "it's a pain in the tail fins and you are welcome to it."

"Okay, but it's still only polite that you tell the sharks why you don't want to come with them," Gill said.

"Gill," Gurgle said, "I'm not sure that I have the courage to refuse a shark anything…"

"Then come with us," said Gill, "it's the best chance that we have of reaching Sharkbait and his Dad."

Gurgle looked from Gill up to where the sharks were still grinning down at them, showing rows and rows of very sharp teeth. He turned his attention back to Gill, and swallowed, "You know, beloved leader," he said quietly, "I think that if sharks want us to go with them, then it would be very impolite not to do so, don't you?"

"I thought you might feel that way," said Gill, giving him an enigmatic smile.


	12. Chapter 12

_Chapter 11 – To Find a Home_

 **Author's Note – Yay, more reviews. The Tank Gang, Gurgle especially, have serious trouble trusting sharks – understandably enough, considering that sharks are such effective predators. But they have made friends with Nigel the pelican, so they are perhaps more accepting of predators than other fish might be. This is the final chapter of** _ **Finding Home**_ **– I really wanted to get this story finished before** _ **Finding Dory**_ **comes out, just in case that contradicts something I have written here. Fortunately, I seem to have succeeded. I hope you like this chapter, and this story. Reviews are always welcome. K.**

Gill carefully made sure that Peach was securely attached to Bruce's right fin, and swam up behind her. Gurgle was on Bruce's left fin, and the other members of the Tank Gang were holding onto the fins of Anchor and Chum. The Tank Gang were staring up at the sharks in wary apprehension, but none of them dared to voice their concerns, as the sharks began to swim away from the trench once more.

Day turned to night, which melted into day once more. The Tank Gang stopped briefly, to rest and feed, but found it hard to relax, since they were in the company of sharks, so quickly decided to continue on with their journey. As night fell again, Gill finally managed to get a few hours of blessed sleep, still holding onto Peach with his good fin. Then, as a new day was dawning, and as the sun could be seen through the clear blue water, shining high in the sky above them, the sharks began to slow down their pace. Bruce looked down at where Peach and Gill were perched on his right fin, "Journey's end, mates," he said, "This is where the clownfish and the blue tang live."

Gill helped Peach down from Bruce's fin, and watched the others also get down from the fins of the three sharks. He turned his attention back to Bruce once more. "How can we ever thank you for escorting us safely here?" he asked sincerely.

Bruce laughed, "No need, mates," he said, "but say hi from me to the clownfish and the blue tang Sheila when you see them, okay?"

"Of course," said Gill, as the sharks waved their farewells, "and thank you again."

"Over there," said Bubbles, pointing towards a clownfish. Marlin was only a few feet away from the Tank Gang, and was staring off in the opposite direction to the little gang, as though he was waiting, patiently, for someone or something.

"No, not yet," Gill stopped Bubbles from going forward using his good fin, "this is a moment for father and son."

As they watched, Nemo swam up to the awaiting Marlin, and then began hugging him enthusiastically. It was only when he let go, and father and son began to swim away together, that Gill felt that it would be appropriate for his little gang to swim up to them. Slowly, the Tank Gang swam towards the father and son.

Nemo suddenly turned around, did a double-take, and turned around once more. He turned towards his Dad, who also turned around, and stared in wonder as the Tank Gang made their way towards the two clownfish.

"Gill?" Nemo asked, his voice very quiet, "Gill!" he said again, this time much louder, as he swam, faster than Gill would have thought possible considering his small right fin, towards him. A moment later, he was nuzzling into Gill's side and grinning happily up into his eyes. "I told my friends that you were okay, and that you were making your way back to us," he said quietly.

Gill laughed, "Hi, Sharkbait," he said, "so you remembered what I taught you about swimming down to avoid a net. You saved so many fish. I'm so proud of you, kid."

"Tough as a shark when taking on a predator," Gurgle whispered to Bloat, just loud enough for Gill to hear, "but the moment Gill's close to Sharkbait, he becomes as soft as a sponge."

Bloat gave a small laugh in agreement, possibly the first time that the porcupine fish and the royal gramma had agreed on anything since setting fin in the ocean. But Gill ignored them both, as he instead focused all of his attention upon the young clownfish who was nuzzling up to him affectionately.

"I'm so glad that you're here," Nemo said, hugging him even harder.

"You being good for your Dad, kid?" Gill asked.

Nemo smiled up at him, "Yes," he said quietly.

Gill gave a small laugh, "Of course you are, Sharkbait. I'm so happy to see you safe and well."

"How did you get here?" Nemo asked.

"Well, it's a long-" Gill began, but was interrupted by Bloat.

"Okay, Gill, we'll tell him," said Bloat, gently pulling Nemo away from Gill and into the centre of a rough circle, made up of the rest of the Tank Gang.

Gill watched and listened, as all of the members of his little gang told Nemo about their journey, interrupting each other and occasionally arguing about the order of events. Gill laughed quietly as he watched them all. He didn't think he had ever felt so happy as at that moment, back in the ocean, surrounded by those that he loved, and who loved him in return. It was a moment of pure bliss.

And as such, it could not possibly last. Gill got the distinct impression that someone was staring intently at him. He turned around, and saw Marlin look away suddenly, wearing the same expression that his son had worn when Gill had caught Nemo staring at his scars, back in the tank, what seemed like a lifetime ago now. Gill swam closer to Marlin. "We haven't been properly introduced," he said, "when we met, briefly, there was not exactly time for polite introductions."

Marlin gave him a small smile, "No, I remember, you were all too busy trying to save my son. I'm Marlin."

"Gill."

"Oh, I know who you are," said Marlin, looking down, "Nemo talks about you all the time."

"What does he say?" asked Gill, suddenly starting to feel just a little bit wary.

Marlin looked up at him once more, "Only that you are just about the smartest, bravest, most compassionate fish that he has ever met."

Gill squirmed slightly as Marlin continued to stare at him with such admiration, "Well, you know what kids can be like," he said awkwardly, "always exaggerating."

If anything, that seemed to make Marlin feel even more awed by Gill. Marlin looked down, as though he was not even worthy to look Gill in the eye. "What makes the knowledge of the time that Nemo was snatched away from me bearable is knowing that you and your gang were so welcoming, accepting and loving towards him," he began quietly, "and I know what you did to save my son. I know that you risked your life in order to save him. I want to say thank you, but that doesn't seem to be nearly enough after all you risked for him."

"I...you're welcome," said Gill, unsure of what else to say, "and it wasn't just me, all of the gang helped. Besides, I only did what anyone else would have done in the circumstances".

"I don't think most fish would have had the courage or intelligence to do what you did to help Nemo," Marlin said, "I can't begin to thank you enough."

"Then stop!" Gill said, suddenly unable to take any more of this, feeling like such a fraud, "I don't deserve any of this! Did your son tell you that I nearly got him killed?!"

Marlin stared at Gill in shock for a long moment. "No," he admitted quietly, after a very long and very awkward pause.

"Well, I did," said Gill, looking away from him, "I still have nightmares about it, about what nearly happened." He sighed, "I was planning how we could all escape from the tank. Sharkb-Nemo," he corrected, "was the only one who could get in and out of the filter to block it, so I asked him to go in there to do that. And he swam up the filter, blocked it just as I had asked him to do. But something went wrong, I'm not sure what. The blades started turning once more, and very nearly killed him."

Marlin was staring at Gill in horror, "He never told me anything about that," he admitted.

"I guess he didn't want to worry you unnecessarily," said Gill.

"What happened then?" Marlin asked.

Gill sighed, "We were able to rescue him, thank all the fish in the ocean."

"You were trying to come up with a plan to help him escape, right?" asked Marlin.

"Yes," said Gill, "but in doing so, I put him in danger. I'm sorry. I would understand if you never want me to come anywhere near your son, ever again. But please don't blame the others," he indicated with his good fin where the rest of the Tank Gang were still talking and laughing with Nemo, "they had nothing to do with it, in fact they tried to talk me out of it."

Marlin was silent for a long moment. "I didn't know," he said eventually, "but this doesn't change anything. I was too hard on Nemo, held him back too much, thought that his lucky fin meant that he couldn't do anything, and stifled him too much that way. You went too far in the other direction, and put him in danger. It's so difficult to get the balance right. Crush the sea turtle seems to have managed it, but turtles live so long that I guess they have plenty of time to learn how to get that parenting balance right." He gave Gill a small smile, "And I doubt that Nemo would ever forgive me if I told you to go away and never see him again," he added, "but promise me one thing."

"Anything," said Gill.

"If something were to happen to me," Marlin looked away from Gill, "so that I…was no longer around to take care of my son, then I would want to know that Nemo is safe and being looked after. Would you take care of him, as you did in the tank, help and teach him how to manage with his fin, love him as your own?"

Gill was silent for a long moment, "There could be no greater honour," he said earnestly, "especially coming from you, knowing how you took on the whole ocean in order to find your son. But I hope that it will not come to that, as I know how much your son loves and needs you."

"Thank you," said Marlin, "you have no idea what that means to me."

Gill gave him a small, enigmatic smile, "Oh, I think I just might," he replied.

Then they turned their attention back to where Nemo had begun to tell the Tank Gang all about his adventures after he had escaped from the dentist's office. For a long while, Gill watched his little gang, as they continued to argue and interrupt each other. There was still a lot to do, and it would take a long time until they would be able to fully adjust to life in the ocean. But that did not matter, right here, right now, surrounded by friends and love.

They had at last found home.

 _Fin_


End file.
